Poetry and musings on life

UNTAME THEM

They climbed trees
And scraped their knees,
Before health and safety.
Now to school be car
Though it isn’t far
Oh! My children.
Your learning dimmed
By facts
This counteracts
Imagination.
Do I hear the sound
Of Gradgrind near
Lurking in our nation?

The politician now
constructs
What your teacher instructs.
Oh! My children!
Not music, craft or art;
These acquired
When tutors
are hired
By those who can afford it.
Money and celebrity
Encourage some to lord it.

Staring at a screen.
What can it mean?
Oh! My children!
It isn’t real.
It makes us feel connected.
Demands on you are that
you be perfected.
Despite it
You are perfect all of you.
But of uniformity
Fight it!
We’ll help you to
What else can we do?
Oh! My children!